an expression or illustration a little too vivacious. I don't know that
I shall report any more conversations on these topics; but I do insist
on the right to express a civil opinion on this class of subjects
without giving offence, just when and where I please,--unless, as in
the lecture-room, there is an implied contract to keep clear of doubtful
matters. You did n't think a man could sit at a breakfast-table doing
nothing but making puns every morning for a year or two, and never give
a thought to the two thousand of his fellow-creatures who are passing
into another state during every hour that he sits talking and laughing.
Of course, the one matter that a real human being cares for is what is
going to become of them and of him. And the plain truth is, that a good
many people are saying one thing about it and believing another.

--How do I know that? Why, I have known and loved to talk with good
people, all the way from Rome to Geneva in doctrine, as long as I can
remember. Besides, the real religion of the world comes from women much
more than from men,--from mothers most of all, who carry the key of
our souls in their bosoms. It is in their hearts that the "sentimental"
religion some people are so fond of sneering at has its source. The
sentiment of love, the sentiment of maternity, the sentiment of the
paramount obligation of the parent to the child as having called it into
existence, enhanced just in proportion to the power and knowledge of
the one and the weakness and ignorance of the other,--these are the
"sentiments" that have kept our soulless systems from driving men off to
die in holes like those that riddle the sides of the hill opposite
the Monastery of St. Saba, where the miserable victims of a
falsely-interpreted religion starved and withered in their delusion.

I have looked on the face of a saintly woman this very day, whose creed
many dread and hate, but whose life is lovely and noble beyond all
praise. When I remember the bitter words I have heard spoken against her
faith, by men who have an Inquisition which excommunicates those who ask
to leave their communion in peace, and an Index Expurgatorius on which
this article may possibly have the honor of figuring,--and, far worse
than these, the reluctant, pharisaical confession, that it might
perhaps be possible that one who so believed should be accepted of the
Creator,--and then recall the sweet peace and love that show through
all her looks, the p